XMas Fic
by Penny Lane2
Summary: Present Christmas Tidings bring back memories of the Christmas before William Vaughn died. S/V.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Untitled  
Author: Penny  
Summary: Christmas of 2003 brings back memories of the Christmas before William Vaughn's death. Lots of S/V.   
Disclaimer: These characters belong to JJ Abrams  
Feedback: Please  
A/N: I post this on the boards, however since the boards are down, I figured I'd post here, because I want to get this done before Christmas  
  
*  
  
"Is this new?" Will walks over to pick up a sleek silver frame; it was smaller and more modern then its antique older brother, nevertheless it fit perfectly on Sydney's bedside table. Will has never seen the picture before either, it looks to have been taken on Christmas back in the seventies. Sydney as a little girl under the mistletoe kissing a boy Will didn't recognize; he didn't look to happy at Sydney's jester.  
  
Sydney comes over and takes the frame out of Will's hand and places it back in its rightful place. She smiles and ignores Will's question.  
  
"Sydney?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Aren't you going to tell me?"  
  
Snorting she doesn't say a word. He looks at her bewildered and she tells him, "It's was taken when I was four." She puts emphasis on the period, telling him: drop the issues.   
  
Will, being Will, pressed on. "Who's the boy?"  
  
Grinning, Sydney picks up the frame and settles down on her bed. The curiosity is driving Will insane; he sits down in front of her, and using his eyes exhorts her to tell him.  
  
She fidgets, "It's Vaughn."  
  
Will blinks twice, "Vaughn."  
  
Sydney nods.  
  
"As in…"  
  
"The very same."  
  
"I thought that…"  
  
"So did I, but apparently we knew each other before our parents died."  
  
Sydney wishes she had just bit her lip, because Will looks like he's preparing himself for a very long story.   
  
* 


	2. Chapter 2

[I]Once again as in olden days, happy golden days of yore  
Faithful friends who were near to us, will be dear to us once more  
Some day soon we are we be together if the fates allow  
Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow  
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now[/I]  
  
"Judy Garland is the only one who can do this song justice." Sydney mutters   
into Vaughn's chest, as they lay on his couch.  
  
"Agreed." The CD ends and Vaughn reaches over to find the remote; he finds   
it and turns on NBC to discover they are playing, [I]It's A Wonderful Life.[/I]  
  
"Leave it, I like this movie."  
  
"Jimmy Stewart is great."  
  
"He really is."  
  
Sydney asks, "You ever wonder what it was like if you were never born?"  
  
"No, you?"  
  
"Once or twice."  
  
"I'm glad you were born; I'd probably hate my job and be miserable."  
  
Sydney blushes, "Ditto. I'd probably be in some insane asylum or dead."  
  
"Don't say that," Vaughn becomes uncomfortable, the thought of Sydney   
being dead or discovered sickens him.  
  
"Why, it's the truth." Now, Vaughn's the one who's blushing.  
  
Sydney continues, "I wish we had a fire."  
  
"Syd, it's like seventy degrees out."  
  
Musing, "a roaring fire, and snow."  
  
"And we roast chestnuts, and…" Vaughn retorts sarcastically.  
  
Playfully slapping his arm, "Stop it! Wouldn't you want that? I've never had   
Christmas out of LA, it'd be great."  
  
"I grew up in Washington D.C. It's nice on Christmas, but hell the other three   
months."  
  
"So you're from D.C.?"  
  
"No, I was born in France and moved to Los Angeles shortly after. We lived   
here until Dad died, and then moved to D.C.."  
  
"Going back home for Christmas?"  
  
"Leaving tomorrow morning."  
  
"Have a nice time."  
  
"Oh, yah, I will." Vaughn says mixed with sarcasm and honesty. "You going to   
spend it with Will and Francie, or you dad?"  
  
"Why do you say that?" Sydney asks, and answering his question, "Francie is   
going away to visit her parents, but Will's family is coming over and I invited   
my father, but you know him. I doubt, even though I hope, he'll come."  
  
"Because even though, I love my family, my sisters drive me insane. Your   
dad'll come, he's warmed up over the years and he loves you."  
  
"I hope so. Family drives you insane? I know the feeling."  
  
They both chuckled, "The difference between your family driving you insane   
and mine, mine does it in a very subtle way. Your mother and father have"   
Vaughn's voice trails off, "issues even they don't even comprehend and yes,   
stressful. However with mine, it's consist nagging and trying to one up each   
other between my sisters."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yes, it's awful. I'll walk through the door, put my stuff away, go downstairs   
and it will be, 'Hi Michael. Glad to see you had a nice flight. So no girlfriend?   
Michael, you're thirty-something, you're in your prime. You're handsome   
enough, you must have women lined up, why don't you settle down?' It's an   
endless blah blah blah. Then Mom tells them to sod off, and they start   
comparing their children and husband and bank account; it's a headache."  
  
"Why doesn't your mother tell them to leave you alone sooner?"  
  
"What and give up the dirty looks, eye rolls, and suppressed giggles she and   
I share during the entire visit. Naah, Mom thinks its funny. The first word   
out of her mouth is always jokingly, 'Where's my grandchildren?'"  
  
Sydney half laughs, "Your mother sounds great."  
  
"She is. She always liked me better and is more proud of what I've   
accomplished than my sisters. And they know that. And it severely pisses   
them off." Vaughn kind of smirks.  
  
"Does she know?"  
  
"Yes, she's the only one."  
  
"You know that Christmas tree is weak." Sydney points out Vaughn's little   
fake, Charlie Brown Christmas tree.  
  
"I'm leaving in a day, and I am never here. Plus, I think it's cute."  
  
"Well, then that's what matters, right? It's cute."  
  
"It's perfect for one gift too." Vaughn gets up, goes to the tree and picks up   
the rectangle box which was hiding end the branches.   
  
"I thought we said no gifts, because the shopping would arise suspicion of   
those around us." Sydney mockingly says.  
  
"Yah, we did, but I did my shopping on EBay."  
  
Sydney gets up and goes to her purse, she pulls out a square box, wrapped   
in silver paper, "Ditto."  
  
"I love Ebay."  
  
"Oh me too. While jetting off to once again that week try not to get myself   
killed, I can do all my Christmas shopping. It's perfect for the on-the-go spy."  
  
"Bet Sloane would love that, 'Syd go steal this Rambaldi artifact.' 'Yah, when   
bidding closes.'"  
  
Handing him his gift, she smiles, "Merry Christmas."  
  
"Merry Christmas," He kisses her on the cheek and hands her hers.  
  
"Open it," She tells him.  
  
"You first."  
  
"No, open your gift."  
  
"Ladies first."  
  
"This lady is passing her right off to you."  
  
"How about we open them simultaneously?"  
  
"No, I want to see your reaction, and I'll be too busy reacting to mine to fully   
enjoy the moment."  
  
"Stop being difficult and please open your gift."  
  
"Don't ruin the moment with your attitude."  
  
Vaughn shakes his head, "I see I'm not going to win, fine, but you have to   
open yours first next year."  
  
"Deal."  
  
Vaughn picks up the small box and carefully (and cunningly) begins to unwrap it.   
He slowly opens the top, turns it around and opens the bottom. Knowing Sydney   
is losing her patience, he slows down to a paint drying pace. He smiles inward,   
payback is always satisfying, even if this is borderline cruel; she looks like she is   
going to burst. Frustrated, she leans over and makes a big rip in the paper, "Oh   
just rip it!"  
  
Vaughn laughs and winks at her.  
  
"You're so mean! Do you think you're funny when you do that? Your not!"  
  
"Then why are you having a hard time suppressing a smile."  
  
BUSTED! Sydney blushes.  
  
"Wow, Sydney. Thank you."  
  
It's a mint condition LA Kings Gordie Howe trading card, in a collectors case, and   
autographed. Vaughn tries to speak, but words fail him; looks at her, smiles, and   
kisses her. "Thank you. Whoa, how…"  
  
Sydney's overjoyed; he's truly touched and really likes it. "I remember you said   
Donovan destroyed the one you had." -- Vaughn mutters something about a stupid   
mutt under his breathe -- "And you were unable to replace it, so I checked around   
on Ebay, called in some contacts, surfed around and found one."  
  
"Your beautiful, you know that."  
  
Sydney chuckles.  
  
"My gift seems like kind of lame compared to this. May I have another day to return   
it and start over?"  
  
"No! I'm positive I'll love it. The other two years were lovely." Sydney starts to open   
the package. It's actually two small packages stacked onto top of each other; it's in   
silver and blue snowflake wrapping paper, and a lace ribbon tied them together.  
  
"Nice wrapping."  
  
"Thank You."  
  
"Did you wrap it?" Imagining Vaughn wrapping this with Donovan stepping all over it,   
and destroying everything brings a grin to Sydney's face, however Vaughn tells her   
the truth.  
  
"No, I got it gift wrapped. What don't think I could wrap like that?"  
  
"Oh, no, it's just… A little Martha Stewart."  
  
"Yah think? See, I think Martha Stewart would probably have made her own wrapping   
paper."  
  
"True, very true."  
  
Sydney finishes unwrapping the first gift; It is another picture frame, carrying on the   
tradition. This year it's smaller, holding a 3X5, and made of a modern pewter, very   
sleek and elegant. Letting out a small aw and kissing Vaughn on the cheek, "It's  
lovely. I know exactly what picture I'm going to use, been waiting all year."  
  
"That obvious to you?"  
  
"No, it's tradition." She picks up the other package and begins to unwrap, "It's good. I   
don't have a lot of traditions and it's about time you and I start forming our own."   
  
Smiling at him, she rips off the paper in one motion. This gift elicits the same reaction   
as Vaughn's; Vaughn had gotten her a mint condition, First Edition American version of   
Shakespeare's [I]Much Ado About Nothing[/I].   
  
Nearly squealing, "Vaughn, it's beautiful. How on Earth did you… this must have…   
Vaughn, how…  
  
"I checked around on Ebay, called in some contacts, surfed around and found one." He   
winks at her, "Don't fret about it, Syd, I know you said this was one of your favorites   
and one of the only ones your didn't have."  
  
Sydney kisses Vaughn, smiles, puts it down on the table and runs into the bathroom.   
She returns with latex gloves, "I don't want to get my fingerprints on it!" Vaughn as   
stares like she's crazy.   
  
"I love it AND love you, thank you."  
  
"You're welcome," he tells her, however she barely hears; she's so engrossed in trying   
to find a her favorite passage.   
  
* 


	3. Chapter 3

Sydney spends the night at Vaughn's and returns home around four in the morning.   
Tired, she drags herself to the to her boudoir and quickly changes into her pajamas.   
She puts the presents from Vaughn on the nightstand. Sydney throws back the   
covers, yet instead of sinking under them, so goes to her bookshelves. Finding her   
hat box full of photos, she pulls it down and searches for the one she wants. Sydney   
picks out one of Will, Francie and her at Francie's restaurant opening. It's the prefect   
size for Vaughn's frame. She puts away the box, puts in picture in the frame, turns   
off the light, and goes to bed.   
  
*  
  
Sydney awakes to Christmas music. She rolls over and pulls the covers over her   
head. Francie's listening to Mariah Carey again, she groans. Her bed is so warm and   
she does not want to leave it; however, she remembers Francie is leaving for San   
Diego this afternoon. She puts on her slippers and gets out of bed to face the freezing   
cold (eighty degrees out) December morning of Los Angeles.  
  
Sydney smells bacon; Francie's cooking a big breakfast. Will's setting the table and   
Francie's slaving over the stove. They both smile at Sydney's entrance.  
  
"Merry Christmas!"  
  
"Feliz Navidad!"  
  
"Joyeux Noël!" Sydney returns the salutation, "Anything I can do?"  
  
Francie brings over a plate of French toast to the table, "Yes, sit down and dive in."  
  
"Not without you."  
  
"Eat while the food's hot!" She brings over the bacon and eggs, "I'll sit down in two   
minutes."  
  
Will takes a seat next to her, shrugs, and pour himself a glass of orange juice. "You   
were out late last night."  
  
Shooting him a deadly look, Sydney responds, "The mall was hell; had to beat an old   
grandmother for your gift."  
  
"Doesn't the mall close at midnight?" Francie has now joined the conversation.  
  
Sydney just stares in her plate slightly cursing. She grabs the maple syrup and   
doesn't respond.  
  
Will and Francie wink at each other, "And if I remember correctly, didn't some packages   
already arrive at the house, via Ebay?"  
  
"I got one or two gifts of the internet, however I still wasn't done."  
  
"Where's the packages?" Will asks.  
  
"Like, I'd blatantly leave Christmas gifts lying around!"  
  
Francie charms in, "You saw him again, didn't you?"  
  
"Who?"  
  
"You know who?"  
  
Sydney just smiles.  
  
"I want to meet him!"  
  
"Me too!" Will chirms in.  
  
Sydney glares at him; she wants to smack him for egging Francie on.  
  
"Why don't you invite him to dinner one night?"  
  
"Rules, Protocol, Millions of reasons." Possible death she neglected to mention.  
  
"Doesn't it bother you, all this cloak and dragged crap?"  
  
"I've gotten use to it, Francie." Sydney says sadly.  
  
They spent the rest of the meal discussing Francie's visit to her family, and what they   
got who for Christmas. When breakfast is over, Sydney volunteers to clean up and   
do the dishes. ("You did all the cooking!") Will and Francie agree and leave to fight   
over which Christmas CD to play next. ("Bennett is better than Sinatra, Francie!")  
  
"Why don't we just listen to the radio?" Sydney asks when she's done with the dishes.  
  
"Because that's too easy. Francie, likes to make thing difficult!"  
  
"Sit down, Will, I'll be right back." Francie leaves, and returns with Syd and Will's presents.  
  
"Thanks!" Syd and Will say in unison, and go off to get hers.   
  
"Wow!" Francie opens Will's gift. It's a print of one of her favorite paintings.  
  
"Perfect for that wall you have that is so bleak."  
  
"Love it Will, it will complete the restaurant décor." Francie gives him a kiss.  
  
Sydney just opened her combine gift from Francie and Will, "HA. HA. Very funny guys."   
It's a book: [I] Ten Most Efficient Ways to Quit Your Job and Start a Better Career[/I].  
They both flash goofy smiles, "Welcome."  
  
They finish unwrapping the gifts, and Francie goes off to finish packing. Will drives   
Francie to the airport; they slam the door when Sydney gets the call, "Joey's Pizza."  
  
"Merry Christmas to, you too! Wrong Number." A day before Christmas and they are   
calling her in to work. She looks at the book Will and Francie got her, maybe they   
are right. She gets ready and drives to Command Post.  
  
* 


	4. Chapter 4

*  
  
"Do you ever go home?" Sydney snaps at Kendall, "It's two days before   
Christmas! Don't you have family or a home that you be visiting?"  
  
"Agent Bristow, I don't want to be here anymore than you do."  
  
"Then why are we? Couldn't this have waited?"  
  
"No." Kendall begins to brief her about her mission; very typical. Rambaldi   
Artifact. Bad Guys. Steal it Back. Come Home. "I tried to contact Agent   
Vaughn, but he was boarding a plane."   
  
Sydney angrily replies, "Do not ruin Vaughn's Christmas too! He's going   
home, don't contact him."  
  
"It's too late."  
  
"I'll call and tell him to ignore your orders; this is simple. I don't need a   
partner."  
  
Kendall hesitates, "Fine. The Vault..."  
  
"I'll go talk to my mother then."  
  
"Good, that was the plan."  
  
"If there's nothing else, I'd like to start immediately, I want to be home   
for Christmas." Sydney says shortly.   
  
*  
  
"Vaughn."  
  
"Hey, it's me."  
  
Sydney could sense him smiling, "Hey."  
  
"I heard Kendall called you, wanted you to work."  
  
"Yah, about that…"  
  
"I know you worry, but I talked to Kendall and you don't have to come back."  
  
"I know, your father called me."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're father called me about fifteen minutes ago, giving me this exact same spiel."  
  
Sydney has to laugh a little, "Seriously."  
  
"Yah."  
  
"That's good. I didn't want to ruin your holiday."  
  
"You wouldn't have."  
  
She smiles, "Well, I'm still glad you don't have to come back."  
  
"Why? Trying to get rid of me?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes, I see now." Vaughn jests, "This is just some scheme to jet off with someone else."  
  
Playing along, "No, honestly, well, maybe. The plane does leave in an hour."  
  
They both chuckle.  
  
"Syd," He voice trails off, yet she knows what he was going to say. He probably   
stops incase the phone call is been moderated.  
  
"Merry Christmas, Vaughn."  
  
"You too, Syd."  
  
"Vaughn…"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Me too."  
  
There's a pause, "See you in a few days."  
  
"Bye."  
  
*  
  
"I need to know how to get into Mr. Justin Rossingnoi's vault." Sydney asks her mother.  
  
Irina puts down her book, "Attempting to steal the Self-Portrait?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Irina promptly complies, "Justin Rossingnoi's vault is protected by two barriers.   
You need his fingerprints and his voice activated password, Magical Mystery Tour."  
  
"Magical Mystery Tour?" Sydney half laughs.  
  
"He's a big Lennon fan."  
  
Smiling, "I was always partial to Ringo."  
  
"Ringo," Irina softly repeats.  
  
"Okay, so I'll talk his glass and strike up a conversation about The Beatles.   
Anything else I should know?"  
  
"Yes, I have two personal requests."  
  
Sydney nods and Irina continues, "I have something for you. Rossingnoi was a   
very personal contact of mine. Inside his vault will be a package with your   
name on it. Be sure to take it with you."  
  
Sydney doesn't know what to say, she numbly nods in affirmation, "I'll do that.   
Thank you."  
  
"When I surrendered, I was wearing a single pearl necklace. It holds the utmost   
sentimental value to me. I want it back."   
  
"I'm positive it can be arranged." Sydney gets ready to leave, however before   
she does she adds in, "Merry Christmas."  
  
"Merry Christmas." Sydney is at the gate, when Irina ask, "You don't remember   
him, do you?"  
  
She raises her eyebrow, "Who?"  
  
"Michael."  
  
Sydney begins to speak, wanting to know where her mother is going with this   
and since when Vaughn and she were on a first name base. Before she says   
a word, she stops herself. Maybe it is wanting to get the mission over with,   
or wanting to go home, or just not wanting to sink to her mother's level, that   
compels Sydney not bite. "Of course I do."   
  
Irina watches Sydney leaves, fully knowing Sydney is lying.   
  
* 


	5. Chapter 5

*  
  
"Well, Mr. Rossingnoi, personally I always thought [I]Sgt. Pepper's Lonely   
Hearts Club[/I] is better than [I]Magical Mystery Tour[/I]."  
  
"Ms. Foley, even though [I]Magical Mystery Tour[/I] is my favorite of their   
albums, I believe we're both wrong. [I]Abbey Road[/I] is the best album."  
  
She beams, he took the bait. Even he is either extremely thick or an   
extreme fan boy.   
  
"Sir, I believe we could spend the entire night debating which album is the   
greatest."  
  
"Very true, and on that note I say we call it a night. If you excuse me, I   
have other guests to attend too." he finishes his champagne glass, puts it   
on the table, and leaves.   
  
Too Easy, Sydney thinks, grabbing the glass and darting down the hallway.   
She doesn't become cocky though, because something could still go wrong.   
She use the device to copy his fingerprints; subsequently she uses the   
gloves and the recording to open the vault. The Self-Portrait was on a   
12X18 sheet of canvas. Sydney rolls it around her leg, and starts to close   
the safe. Then her name catches her eye. There is a package, about the   
shape of an oversize book, with her name on it. Recalling what her mother   
said, she grabs the package too and rushes to escape.  
  
*  
  
Relaxing in her seat, Sydney takes out the package from her mother. She   
places it on her lap and stares at it. There's no reason not to trust her; she   
hasn't lied to Sydney yet. Nothing explosive, the metal would have set off   
alarms during the security checks. Sydney rips off the brown paper wrapping   
to reveal a photo album. Hesitantly, she opens to the first page. The pages   
are filled with pictures documenting the first six years of Sydney's life. Her   
mother and father, smiling and holding her. Sydney at a Halloween, at a   
dance recital, at the park. She flips through a few more pages. Overcome   
with emotions, she slams the book shut.  
  
*  
  
Sydney returns from her mission, a complete success. Keeping her promise,   
she now walks through command post, with her mother's necklace wrapped   
in a small box.  
  
"I got your gift, the album. Thank you, it was, nice." She slides the box   
through the opening in Irina's cell.   
  
"You're welcome. I spent many hours reminiscing over that; I thought you   
might want it." Irina's face glows as she unwraps the box and puts on the   
necklace, "Thank you. This time in here has been the longest I've ever had   
it off. I never took it off, even when I slept. Your father hated it. Very   
suspicious why I always wore it. I told him the truth, I liked it. Of course   
that was a very simple explanation. He wouldn't have understood one much   
more complicated. Look at me, rambling on." Irina coyly smiles and stops   
talking.  
  
Sydney is intrigued, "Why's it so meaningful?"  
  
Irina pauses, "You're like you're father, the complete truth is too complicated.   
Let's just say someone who was a very dear friend gave it to me on Christmas   
yore."   
  
Sydney wonders why she uses the past tense; Irina seeming to read her daughter's   
mind, "He," She looked as if she is going to shed a tear. "He died."  
  
"I'm sorry." Sydney says quietly. She truly is, in some small way. She knows what  
it's like to lose someone important to her, and this person, whoever he might be,   
obviously was very important to Irina.   
  
"So am I." Irina repeats softly, "So am I."  
  
There is a long pause, before Sydney says she has to go.   
  
"You still don't remember, Michael. Even after the photo album." Irina asks her   
daughter's back.   
  
Sydney turns around, "I only looked through a few pages. And where do you come   
off calling Vaughn, Michael? Why so informal? You of all people should..."  
  
Irina cuts her off, "Michael, it's he's name. Why not put it to use. You remember --   
and know -- him as Vaughn, your handler, confident, faithful servant, but do you   
remember him as Michael? Your mentor and best friend? I'm surprised and   
disappointed, that you don't. I bet your father never told you, did he?"  
  
"Told me what?" She thought her mother and she were past these psychological mind   
games.  
  
"You knew Vaughn, as you call him, as a child."  
  
Sydney says defensively, "No I didn't. I would remember."  
  
Firmly telling Sydney, "You did."  
  
This is ridiculous, Sydney thinks. If I knew Vaughn, why don't I remember. Why didn't   
he remember?   
  
"You cried for a week when he moved away." Irina begins. "You were so young and so   
confused and so very, very angry. You wouldn't talk to anyone; locked yourself in your   
room. I tried to explain to you that people pass through our life in cycles, that some   
come and go, and few stay forever, even if you want them to. That life is a constant   
moving motion, always churning and changing. I said, you'll meet a new best friend and   
a new boy, which only got you more upset. You were too young to understand. But you   
never talked of him again after that. Maybe that's how you tried to ease your pain, by   
trying to forget he ever existed. You locked his name and the memories surrounding him   
so deep inside, that after all these years, and after what your father did to you, and even   
after being reunited, you just willed yourself to forget."  
  
Irina pauses for a moment, letting her words sink in. Hoping this revaluation would unlock   
whatever memories Sydney is forcing herself to forget. "Chemistry wasn't the only reason   
you felt like you could trust Vaughn immediately. You warmed up to him quickly. He gained   
your trust in record time, that's because you had a history. And he felt the some way about   
you when you first met."  
  
"He had an instinct." Sydney remembers the day the walked into Vaughn's office for the first   
time.  
  
"That's right. For the first four years of your life he was it. You hated everyone else except   
for him and me. He did make parenting easy, since you copied everything he did. He was   
polite, you were polite. He didn't argue, you didn't argue. Quite the God sent, he was."   
Irina smiles, showing as she has throughout the conversation, real emotion.   
  
Sydney thinks she might have seen her suppress a smile. And then suddenly, like the light   
is turned on, or the floodgates opened, memories coming streaming back to her. "The last   
time I saw him was his fathers funeral. He sitting alone on the sofa, willing himself not to   
cry. I remember I gave him a hug. He was cold. He just walked away."  
  
* 


	6. Chapter 6

*  
  
Sydney parks her car in front of her house. She gets out and grabs the groceries.   
As she's puts the food away, Will walks in. "My parents are going to be here at 6:30."  
  
"Great, that gives me just enough time to start the ham." Sydney isn't the greatest   
cook, so Francie had to leave her very detailed instructions on how to prepared the   
evening's meal.  
  
"Ham? I thought we were having turkey?" Will questions, as he gives Sydney a   
hand.  
  
"You have turkey on Thanksgiving; Ham on Christmas Eve."  
  
"We always have turkey. My mother is bringing her garlic mash potatoes, which   
are only good as a side dish to turkey."  
  
"Will, we're having ham and the potatoes will be fine."  
  
"But we have homemade applesauce with ham!" Will's all wound up, "It's too   
late to call my mom and tell her to make the applesauce!"  
  
"Will!" Sydney puts her hands on his shoulders, and looks him in the eye,   
"Calm down. It will be fine. I have applesauce."  
  
"No, you have goo from the can. That is not applesauce!"  
  
Sydney's getting frustrated, "Will, I need your help this afternoon. Please do me a  
flavor, Shut up and start preparing the squash!"  
  
Will mopes over to draw to get a knife, and silently washes and skins the squash,   
while Sydney tries her best to prepare the ham. Will's behavior reminders her of   
Vaughn. Since her conversation with her mother earlier this morning the memories   
keep flooding back. Sydney remembers once, Vaughn's mother didn't make her   
special cranberry jelly-sauce and Vaughn refused to attend dinner. Sydney starts   
laughing and Will asks what's wrong (while giving her "your mental" glares). Sydney   
mutters nothing.  
  
The timer goes off and she takes the squash Will's been cutting up and places it in pot   
to boil. Accidentally, she burns herself, and while running cold winter over her fingers   
she starts to smile. She was three and it was Fourth Of July. She had a sparkler and   
she tripped and fell and landed on it. Vaughn picked up her, and carried her back to   
the house and her mother.   
  
"Okay, what's going on?" Will isn't an idiot.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
"You're in a REALLY good mood, what happened?"  
  
"It's Christmas Eve, Will. I'm in the spirit, that's all." Will looks at her twice, however   
seems content with her answer, and goes to set the table. "Is your dad coming?" Will   
asks, wanting to know if he'll need five or six plate settings.  
  
"No, he's not." Sydney shortly says and Will doesn't press the subject.   
  
*  
  
Will's parents, Norma and Bill, and his sister, Amy, arrive on time. Their arms are filled   
with presents and in jolly mood. Amy still has her red hair, but with green highlights;   
her parents groan and Sydney and Will laugh as she tells them it's only spray on.  
  
The meal isn't ready, so they decide to open presents. Sydney plays Santa, and parades   
around in a Santa cap for the rest of the night. Will gave Sydney a silver tennis bracelet,   
which she loves. He also got her a first aid kit and a small bottle or Novocain, which sends   
Sydney into a laughing fit.   
  
"I'm glad you haven't lost you sense of humor," she whispers into his ear, and gives him a   
kiss on the cheek.  
  
Sydney hands Will a big box. Will opens it to see she's got him a new jacket, and scarf to   
match. "Your old jacket was becoming obsolete."  
  
"Hey, I like my suede jacket!"  
  
"You're the only one." Amy jests.  
  
"Try it on, darling." His mother urges.   
  
Will tries it on; a prefect fit.   
  
"Now, with the scarf."  
  
"I've never been one for scarves," Will says honestly.  
  
"I think they look attractive on guys." Sydney smiles. Mostly because, she remembers that   
Burberry scarf Vaughn would occasionally wear during the winter months.  
  
Will tries it on, and looks extremely dashing. Will beams and thanks Sydney. The timer   
goes off, signaling the ham is done, and they all proceed into the dinning room.   
  
The doorbell rang, and Sydney gets up to answer the door. It is her father. He has a present   
in his hand, he hands it too her. "This is for you. Merry Christmas." He smiles awkwardly.   
  
"Thank you," She weakly smiles, "I thought you weren't going to come."  
  
"I wasn't. But a dear work colleague of ours brought me to my senses."  
  
Vaughn, Sydney thought. Bless him.  
  
"Come in, we're just sitting down." Sydney lets her father pass and tells Wills to set another   
place at the table.   
  
* 


	7. Chapter 7

*  
  
'Twas the night before Christmas, and all threw the house, not a creator was stirring   
-- except for Vaughn and his mother who are putting presents from "Santa" (sorry   
folks hate to break it to you, there is no Santa Claus) under the tree. She finally   
asks, "So how's work."  
  
"It's fine."  
  
"That's good, darling. Haven't nearly died on me lately, have you?"  
  
Vaughn never told his mother what he did or who he worked with. She only knew he   
worked in the Los Angeles office and was aiding his country. Catherine never asked  
for details. She knew William was the same when he was alive, and as long Vaughn   
comes home to her healthy and safe, that's all that mattered. In actuality, not   
knowing was better; if she knew he went out of mission every week it would worry   
her more.   
  
"Few close calls, but I'm fine." He flashes a huge smile at her, as she silently shakes   
her head.  
  
"And how is, what's her name? Alice." Vaughn knew his mother knew Alice's name,   
however Catherine didn't like Alice. At all.  
  
"We broke up."  
  
"That's wonderful darling, I'm so happy for you." She says in a motherly voice,   
"Anyone new?"  
  
Vaughn debates whether to tell his mother. Logically, he knows he should say no,   
nevertheless, he likes the idea of telling his mother, because he knows that   
Catherine will like Sydney.  
  
"There is, isn't there?"  
  
Cautiously he tells her, "Yes."  
  
"But what's the problem?"  
  
Vaughn kind of stares at her.  
  
"I'm your mother darling, you can't lie to me. I know these things. Don't worry,   
I'm not working for the KGB or going to say anything."  
  
Vaughn sighs, "I'm a case officer."  
  
"Good, you work behind a desk, that allows me to sleep sounder at night. She's   
your agent, right."  
  
"Are you sure you didn't meet Dad at work?"  
  
"Haha, no darling."  
  
"Yes, she is."  
  
"Protocol is keeping you apart."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"But you're not following it, are you?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Good boy, you definitely do have a little bit of me in you, even if you are   
your father's son."  
  
Vaughn is touched by the compliment, "Thank you."  
  
"Do you love her?"  
  
"Yes." he answers without hesitation..  
  
"What's her name?"  
  
"Sydney."  
  
"Sydney." Catherine smiles, and looks as if she's plotting a grand scheme.   
"Jack's daughter?"  
  
"What?" Vaughn's mouth fell open.  
  
"Is she Jack's daughter?"  
  
"How did you know that? How do you know Jack?"  
  
*  
  
The Tippins leave and Will agrees to clean the kitchen. When he finishes, he   
says goodnight and leaves Jack and Sydney to spend the rest of the evening   
in peace. Sydney pours her father and herself a drink and hands her father   
his scotch.   
  
"Dad," she settles down and asks the question that's been hovering all night,   
"Why didn't your tell me about Vaughn?"  
  
Jack raises his eyebrow, "What about Vaughn? I told you he brought me to   
my sense tonight."  
  
Ready to say, that's not what I meant, stops because she wants to hear, "How?"  
  
"I called Vaughn, telling him not to return to Los Angeles. He asked if I was   
coming tonight. I hesitated when I answered and he," -- Jack pauses,   
choosing his words, -- "reprimanded me, in a coerce manner, about the spirit   
of Christmas."  
  
"Did he," Sydney snickers, she'd love to have seen that.  
  
Jack slips his glass, not responding.  
  
"That's not what I meant though. Why didn't you ever tell me Vaughn and I   
knew each other when we were kids?"  
  
"What is there to tell? Until his father died, you and he were inseparable.   
Went everywhere and did everything together, or should I say he went   
everywhere and you followed."  
  
Embarrassed, Sydney puts her hand to her forehead and turns a deep shade   
of rouge.   
  
"And the CIA knows this; last year Vaughn was removed from your case   
because you needed a "move experienced agent". That was a false pretext,   
we knew you and Vaughn would become "emotionally attached" and wanted   
to break up the duo before things got to serious. Unfortunately, they already   
were."  
  
*  
  
Catherine just kind of snickers to herself and pulls Vaughn up, on his feet and   
leads him off to the attic.  
  
"Mom, tell me Goddammit."  
  
"Don't use that language, Michael."  
  
"Yes Mom."  
  
"My son's in love with Little Miss Sydney Bristow," She says to herself,   
"William would be so ecstatic."  
  
"Mom!"  
  
"No, I have to show, not tell. Now up the ladder."  
  
Vaughn has no idea what's going on, but just silently climbs knowing if he follows   
orders, she'd tell him.  
  
"Now, where are they?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"The old photo albums."  
  
"Aren't they all downstairs?"  
  
"No. When your father died, I went through the albums and kept only a few of   
the pictures I wanted. I put the others away in the attic. I didn't want to be   
reminded of your father's job, so all the pictures of his friends I didn't keep."  
  
"Jack and Dad were friends?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then that means…"  
  
"Found it."  
  
*  
  
"Sydney, Vaughn's a good man and a good agent. He has a lot of his father's   
best characteristic in him. Officially, you're foolish and irrespondable, taking   
such rash actions in your situation for nothing more than an infatuation with   
your handler. If Devlin were to ever discover you'd never see Vaughn again,   
and I don't want to think about the predicament if Sloane discovered. I do not   
support your relationship and exhort you to end it."  
  
He brightens his solemn face, "Unofficially, I'm extremely happy for the both of   
you. But let it be known, if he hurts you in any way, shape, or form I'll kill him   
myself."  
  
*  
  
Catherine opens an old photo album and shows Vaughn what's inside. Jack and   
his dad sitting in the backyard, smiling and drinking a beer. He flips the page to   
see photos of Christmas, everyone laughing and drinking eggnog. There was a   
picture of William smiling with his arm around Irina, like they were best friends.   
He hates Irina; he wants to slam the book shut. He would have, if his mother   
didn't turn the page. She was cute even then.   
  
"Why don't I remember this?"  
  
"You were young, and I didn't want you too."  
  
"Mom, I know you don't want to hear this, but that woman. Laura."  
  
"You mean Irina?"  
  
Vaughn gasps.  
  
"That's part of the reason. I didn't want you to remember her as a person. And if   
your wondering how I know, your father and Jack aren't the only people I know   
at the CIA. One of my contacts told me."  
  
"You have contacts?"  
  
"To keep tabs on you of course. What type of mother do you think I'd be.   
Nevertheless, your father loved Sydney. He always was trying to get you two   
together. We laughed, 'William, they're so young!'. I guess he saw something   
no one else did." She points to a picture of Sydney giving Vaughn a kiss on   
the check under the mistletoe. "He made her do that, you didn't forgive him   
for about two weeks."  
  
Vaughn didn't know what to say. He flipped through the pages more, until he   
abruptly stopped, "Mum, is that?"  
  
"Arvin Sloane? Yes. He was your father's partner."  
  
* 


	8. Chapter 8

Christmas 1976  
  
"Food has always played a vital role in Life's rituals. The breaking of the bread,   
the last meal of the condemned man, and then this meal. However informal it   
might appear, you can be sure that there was to be little, bonhomie" Are the   
words spoken by The Excerpt prior to the infamous Dinner Scene in the Rocky   
Horror Picture Show.   
  
He made an excellent case, look at how diverse cultures throughout the world   
-- no matter if it's Ramadan or Thanksgiving -- dinning with friends and family   
(or lack there of) is a significant part of holiday tradition. And because of this   
axiom it wouldn't be anything but an archetypal if the Vaughns didn't also   
partake in the time honored tradition and invite their friends -- Jack and Laura   
Bristow with their cute little daughter, Sydney, and Arvin and Emily Sloane --   
to dine with them on Christmas Eve.  
  
Taking only a cursory glance, this seemed to be a pleasant evening filled with   
laughter, presents, good friends and loving family. However, on scrupulous   
review we'd discover the treachery and mutiny brewing within. This evening   
was full of lies, premeditated murder, adultery, and star-crossed lovers.   
  
[b]Laura/Irina POV[/b]  
  
"What's that?" I pulled away, thinking I heard a sound.  
  
"Nothing," Kissing me again, "They won't come looking for a few minutes."  
  
"We shouldn't be doing this."  
  
Nuzzling my neck, her confirms, "You're right, but I don't care."  
  
I kissed him, "I should turn you, but I can't bring myself to. Honestly, I'm more   
worried about Arvin."  
  
"Arvin?"  
  
"I think he knows."  
  
"Impossible, we've been so careful."  
  
"He knows something; he's scheming."  
  
I kissed him once more, before we heard the crack at the door. Pulling away,   
we're relived to see its only Sydney.  
  
"Mummy, where's going to open presents!"  
  
"Okay, Darling."  
  
[b]Sydney POV[/b]  
  
Mummy and Mr. Vaughn didn't seem very happy to see me. I was confused,   
since they were always happy to see me. Especially, Mr. Vaughn who always   
gave me a big hug whenever Mummy and I come to visit. Secretly,   
sometimes I wished Mr. Vaughn was my Daddy. Actually, I take that back,   
I wish my Daddy was like Mr. Vaughn. If Mr. Vaughn was my daddy that would   
mean Mike was my brother; Mike being my brother would be an awful thing.   
I'd never get to follow him around and he'd probably hate me, because he hated   
his sisters, Meghan and Danielle. They are always fighting and they never follow   
him around. If that's what having a brother is like, I don't want to brother and I   
REALLY don't want Mike as one. I know I'd cry if Mike yelled at me.   
  
I went off to find him. I wanted to ask him what he thought about Mummy and   
Mr. Vaughn. Mike would tell me the truth, because Mike knows the answer to   
everything.  
  
I found him; fighting with his sister, per usual.  
  
"Give me it back!" He shouted.  
  
"No, I don't want to."  
  
"Why couldn't you have gone to boarding school too?" He questioned, Meghan,   
who was four years older.  
  
"And leave my darling little brother? Never."  
  
"I'll get Mum!"  
  
"Yah, do that you little tattle tail."  
  
"Give it back!"  
  
I knew from experience how this would end. Mrs. Vaughn would come in and   
ask why they couldn't get along. She'd make Meghan give whatever they were   
fighting over back, and she'd protest. Then she'd make Mike say thank you,   
and he'd protest. It'd been happening -- in that same order -- for four years.  
  
I walked closer and they both saw me, "Mike."  
  
"Hiya, Syd!" He smiled. "What's up?"  
  
"I have a question," I was about to explain, but Meghan cut me off.  
  
"Here, I don't even want it anymore," She threw the toy at Mike. Having no   
ability what so ever, she threw it way off of target, nearly hit me. Mike saw   
it coming and caught it.  
  
"What the HECK?" Mike screamed. "You almost hit her!"  
  
"I was aiming at you!"  
  
"No wonder you failed Pysh. Ed!"  
  
She stomped out of the room. Mike turned to me, "You okay?'  
  
I nodded and grinned.  
  
"What did you want to ask me."  
  
I told him abut Mummy and Mr. Vaughn.  
  
"Well, that is interesting. They probably were discussing what they got us   
for Christmas. C'mon, let's go spy on them."  
  
[b]Mike POV[/b]  
  
I felt bad lying to Sydney. I never did. She's always full of questions and I   
either truthfully answer them or go ask Dad. Frankly, I wanted to know   
myself. Dad and Laura were very close; closer than Mum and Jack. Never  
thought anything of it, I mean, Syd and I were close. Emily and Laura were   
close. Jack and Emily were close. Everyone was close. We were like a   
great family. They were always over here, or we're over there. Still, Dad   
and Laura were never alone in the way Sydney described. I didn't show   
concern to Sydney and made her think it was nothing.   
  
I used one of Sydney's favourite words, "spy." Whenever I had friends over,   
and we ran around the back yard with play guns and pretending that we were   
CIA and KGB and G-Men, Sydney ALWAYS had to be involved. My friends   
thought it was weird to have a four year old girl tagging along. I told them to   
buzz off and they finally did after Sydney nearly gave Joe a black eye. I look   
down at Sydney and she smiles at me, that's my girl.   
  
Dad taught me how to defend myself (fight) when I was seven. Sydney was   
watching the lesson, and being Sydney, she wanted to learn too. Dad and I   
shrugged, and said sure. To make a long story short, she was a good pupil.   
Later that day when the neighbourhood boys and I were playing   
"Government Agents"; Sydney was a "bad agent" and Joe was a "good agent"   
trying to capture her. She put up a fight, and she won.   
  
I don't know who was prouder, Sydney or my father and I.   
  
Sydney and I could here voices room the next room, "Do you think fucking   
him will save you?"  
  
"Katrina, please, I have it under control"  
  
"Irina, he's got a wife. He will not stand by you."  
  
[b]Emily POV[/b]  
  
Arvin was ambitious, had a growing distrust for the United States Government,   
and he loved me. A better husband could not have been selected. I only wish   
Irina could had been as luckily. Russia wanted her to steel secrets and   
unfortunately Jack Bristow was the man who had them. At times I wish William   
wasn't married to Catherine; if Irina had been paired with him, things would be   
easier. Irina was good at her job; Jack never suspected her. I doubt he even   
suspected her faithlessness. However, Irina was a renegade.  
  
William and Irina were walking down the hall. I told William, I had to talk to   
Laura and he didn't object. I pulled her into the den, and shut the door.   
"What the hell is going on?"  
  
Irina flashed her fake smile, and played innocent, "I don't know what your   
talking about."  
  
"Don't bullshit me, Irina." I hissed her name.  
  
She snapped back, "They might be listening, Katrina."  
  
"Do you have any idea what your doing?"  
  
"I'm --"  
  
"You're jeopardizing your mission, because you hate Jack Stop being selfish,   
and do your job. End it."  
  
"No. Unlike you, I didn't get a match made in heaven."  
  
"William Vaughn is the agent in charge of the Operation Defector. If he finds   
out your not Mrs. Prefect, you're dead. And all of our covers are blown."  
  
"He'd never." Irina started.  
  
"Do you think fucking him will save you?"  
  
"Katrina, please, I have it under control"  
  
"Irina, he's got an adoring wife and is a loyal patriot. He will not stand by you."  
  
Before she could say another word, Sydney and Mike barged in. Mike gave   
me a very nasty look; he heard, but how much? "Sorry, I was just looking   
for my dad."  
  
"He went back into the living room, dear." I smiled. He didn't seem satisfied.   
  
"Okay."   
  
Sydney left Michael side, and ran toward Irina, "Mummy, c'mon! It's time to   
open presents, c'mon!" Irina smiled at me, with a smile that said this   
conversation is over. She took Sydney's head, and lead Mike out the door.   
  
[b]Arvin's POV[/b]  
  
He was idolized at work. He had a loving wife, a gorgeous mistress, and a   
son that adored him. Everybody loved him; I hated him. It would all end   
soon though. He has no idea. The look on his face will be priceless. I've   
been planning it for months. Ever since I found out the truth about my wife.   
She never told me. I, being frustrated and fed up with my authorities,   
sought out a more powerful ally. And on my way to that, I uncovered who   
Emily really was. The KGB and Alan we precisely who I was looking for.   
They had just one condition. It was simple enough, nothing I couldn't handle.   
  
Emily came up from behind, put her hands on my shoulder and whispered in   
my ear. I got up and followed her into the deserted kitchen. She quickly   
filled me in on her conversation with Irina.  
  
"Arvin, darling, Michael knows."  
  
"What the hell do you mean, Michael knows. He couldn't possibility,   
he's just a child."  
  
"He heard us talking. He's a smart boy, he'll tell his father. William will   
put it together."  
  
"Well what do you suppose be do about it."  
  
She didn't answer. I stepped closer, "Are you mad?"  
  
"We have to keep his mouth shut."  
  
"There are other opinions. We don't have to go to extremes."  
  
"Arvin, listen."  
  
Cutting her off, "No, you listen. If we lay a finger on that boy William   
will skin us alive. We'll deal with this tomorrow. But right now, we   
have to go out there like nothing happened and keep extra eyes on   
William and Michael."  
  
Emily nodded, and I followed her back into the living room. 


End file.
